


What comes around

by pixiedurango



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Love, Oral Sex, Romance, Rough Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-16 10:42:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 10,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4622307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiedurango/pseuds/pixiedurango
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of tumblr-prompts and drabbles for Arya and Blackwall and Arya and Cullen. <br/>Not all of them explicit, some also very fluffy, some angsty, the whole bunch of possibilities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. on the floor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be pwp  
> But my fingers slipped and I could not resist to give this one a twist

“Yes, Filly. Come work your sweet little cunt on me.” Barely understandable is Blackwalls voice in her ears. She is grinding on him, riding him. Hard and fast, no more teasing, no more play. Both are just yearning for a fast release. They were not been able to wait any longer. The whole day had been filthy jokes and daring looks, rubbing at each other when no one noticed. Now that they finally found a bit of privacy beside that random water place in a decent distance from the camp, it only  takes few moments till their breeches are gone and she straddles him after he pulls her down with him to the floor. Finding themselves on the soil without thinking any further. He already is arching his core against her, stiffening him self to help her feel him deeper and make her come quicker. As hard thrusting as his position allows him. Her breath is hot and fast against the crook of his neck and he buries both his fists in her black hair. He keeps telling her filthy things, his low voice hoarse and thick with lust and she just let her self go on the sound of his voice when suddenly he yells:

“Ouch… fuck… Makers balls… Off, Arya, _Off_!” Almost he is tossing her away from him and she first gives him an unwilling growl when he shoves her off so that he slides out of her and can‘t jump up fast enough. Wildly flailing his arms towards his backside and the groans that just had been lust and lechery now are nothing but pain and disgust.

“Shit, what’s _that_?” Now she also jumps back to her feet after needing a second to understand that there is something not right. Her legs burn like fire, starting at her feet, up to her knees and above.

Blackwall is running into the pond, desperately shoving his hands over his ass and legs and she decides that this might be a good idea so she runs after him to feel a sudden relieve when the cool water touches her burning skin. Both are shouting and cursing nasty and it takes them a while until they become calmer again.

The tunics they did not take off in the rush of lechery are soaking wet and clinging onto their bodies and his butt and the backside of his legs are flaming red. Still he’s scratching until he leaves dark red marks on his own skin.

Arya stands there. Still itching and scratching her own legs and arms, when she suddenly breaks into cackling giggles.

“What?” his voice growls from deep within and he clearly’s in no decent mood anymore.

“That’s quite a lesson you got today!” she manages to state between her outbursts.

“Lesson? What lesson?”

“To check next time for fire ants before you decide to fuck your lady on the naked floor…”

He almost is able to return her grin. „Touché. But, Filly! Not a word at the camp, I warn you!“

„Granted!“ She still snickers while she is bending over slowly to scratch her burning red calves and just stays like that, when she recognizes that he is already ogling again over her butt and all that is showing in between with a wolfish grin.

„Don’t move, Filly!”


	2. Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sweet little drabble about feelings, weather and how Blackwall cares

Blackwall jumped from his sleep. Not sure whether it was the lightning or the thunder that woke him.  
When he found the bedroll next to him empty, he cursed nasty, grabbed his sword and rushed out of the tent in one swift, tensed movement that gotten into his flesh and blood over the years as a soldier.  
It did not matter that he was in his smalls, he was ready to kill.  
Ready to protect his lady. Ready even to die for her, if necessary.

A thunderstorm usually meant that Arya Trvelyan got stuck in the middle of a fight and the worse the storm was, the bigger usually was her rage.

Blackwall scanned the camp with one experienced glance.  
It was dark and it was calm. Except for the pouring rain that was falling down almost like a curtain. And for the thunderstorm that was raging over this part of the Stormcoast.

He relaxed a bit and let down his massive twohander but still did not let go off the grip.  
His eyes wandered around. Checking the area until he finally found what he had been looking for.

A human frame was sitting on a rock a few yards aside the camp.  
Her.  
Wrapped in his padded jacket like into a little tent, knees pulled up to her chest was she sitting in the rain watching the waves breaking at the coast and the thunderstorm far away at the horizon.

„Filly!“ he approached her and almost had to shout against the storm and the rain. „Is everything alright?“

He stood there. Barefoot, only dressed in his smalls, wielding his huge sword and already shivering from the ice cold wind and rain.  
Arya smiled, stretched out her hand and when he took it she pulled him closer so he could hear her reply:  
„Sorry love, I did not want to worry you. I just felt that I wanted to watch a thunderstorm that is only a beautiful weather-thing and not a weapon, caused by my rage.“

Blackwall sighed and dragged her into his arms. Relived that this time it indeed only was the weather – ugly or not. As long as she was save he was able to stand worse than this.


	3. Maker, you are perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pre romance-drabble for Arya & Cullen
> 
> Where she is still careless, clueless, selfish and bound to no one. Not really knowing what she’s doing and hitting on poor confused Cullen like there’s no tomorrow… well there is none, right? Not for sure at least!

Cullen was kind of proud of him self.  
She was with him in the backroom of the Haven Chantry for more than two hours now. They were alone.

And he had been able to a) not stare on her when he thought she would not notice b) not let him self overwhelm with weird thoughts of what might be if times and situation would be different and c) actually get work done.

She was not working like other people did. Sitting on a desk and just… work. She was like a drop of quicksilver. Always in motion. Walking around and thinking aloud, almost acting out when presenting the results. But nevertheless, he had to admit her results were reasonable. Unconventional at times but… those were unconventional times, too and so maybe it was just the way to get things done…  
  
They were discussing how to integrate the mages into the troops and how mage- and non-mage-units could benefit from each other.

For Cullen it was a difficult task and he had been almost reluctant to deal with it. But he was a soldier and this shouting and jumping whirlwind he was supposed to work with was no one less than the Herald of Andraste. Wielder of the mark that sealed rifts and Thedas’ hope to bring things back to order.

That she was a mage, an apostate to be precise, made the fact, that he felt attracted to her even more complicated. Cullen pushed this thought aside. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand!  
Especially because she just stopped in the middle of her motion. Stopped her pacing around and her painting pictures with words on how elemental forces like fire and ice would weaken the enemies so the blades and arrows could kill faster.

She stopped and took a closer look. Inspected him. She stepped closer.

Cullens whole body stiffened under her violet eyes and her smug smile. How she checked him out seemingly from head to toe and seeing beyond directly into his confused mind.

Arya Trevelyan swiped aside the pile of parchments and instead swung her self on the table in front of him.

„Andrastes dotted granny-pants, you are perfect!“ she stated out of the blue and snickered almost as dirty as this crazy Elfen archer Sera used to do.

Cullen winced and stared at her.  
„Pardon me?“ he asked completely puzzled.

„You are perfect.“ She repeated and when she saw his confusion she explained: „I mean, like always. Too fucking perfect! On point, well groomed, effective, no fun, no smile, no wink… just too perfect. Relax, Cullen! We are at war but not among each other.“

Cullen sighed.  
How he wished he could let lose a bit. But there was too much at stake and too many dangerous feelings lingered beyond. „You have no idea, Arya! I am most probably the… least perfect person in all Thedas…“ he finally managed to reply and her usually daring smile was suddenly sweet and comforting.

„Don’t think so low of you!“ she said and for a moment she put her hand on one of his cheeks. „You are doing a great job and I appreciate all you doing here to help me with that… Herald stuff! Just relax! I won’t eat you! Unless you don’t ask me to do so…“ she laughed again as if she had no care in the world and swung her self from the desk, resuming her thoughts about reorganizing the troops as if there had been just nothing.

Yet Cullen needed a moment to process what had just happened here. One hand still on his cheek where her thoughtless touch still lingered warm and comforting on his skin, still staring at her agile frame pacing around rambling strategies.

‚Maker, no, YOU are perfect!’ was all he could think.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hot anon starters are the best!

**Anonymous asked:**  
Breath is hot against her neck as Blackwall stands behind her. Broad, calloused hands caress or grip tight (as she desires-she has only ask. Not always in words but in soft moans, sweet sighs-aggressive touchs) slip down her arms. His beard presses against her skin as his lips kiss the place where neck and shoulder meet. Fingers unerringly find her perfect tits and tantalize her nipples. Her body makes him want to do one thing-fuck-but he holds back in love. "What do you want tonight, My Lady?"  


* * *

**pixiedurango answered:**  
  
She leans back, enjoying the warmth of his skin, the tickling sensation of his bodyhair against her backside. Standing on the balcony of her chambers. The night is not really warm but their bodies still carry the heat from the bath they just shared.  
  
He still keeps his fingers busy with her nipples, changing between caressing and pinching them with increasing intensity until she suppresses her moans by biting her lower lip. She tilts her head back resting it on his shoulder and stretches her body lascivious against his. A moan escapes him when her arse presses against his erection and he feels the subtle moves she tries on him.  
  
„Harder!” she breathes.  
  
He locks her nipples tight between two fingers and lets his thumb run over them. She whimpers from lust.  
  
He kisses her neck. Lips and tongue and teeth. Rough. Intense. He’s sure he’ll be leaving marks and he wants them on her.  
  
„What else?” One hand slides down from her breast. Over her belly down to her delta and when he slides between her legs he drews in his breath when he finds her already slick and ready. Two fingers start caressinng her clit with no hesitation. He moves slow on her because he still awaits an answer to his question.  
  
The one she finally gives makes him almost flinch.  
  
„Make love to me, Thom Rainier!“  
  
He stops all he does and suddenly everything is going numb. His body stiffens and he feels like he needs to step back and the urge to cover up with something to hide.  
  
He forces himself to stay where he is, wrapped around her, feeling her warm body and her heartbeat.  
  
„Why, love, why?“ he manages to ask almost pleading and his voice is shaking. „Why this of all things? And why now? You know that I loathe how I treated women back when I was known under this name.“  
  
She makes some soothing noises and turnes around within his embrace.  
  
„You did not listen, love. Maybe you were a bit distracted?“ she cooes and wrapps her arms around his neck.Her eyes are full of love and lust. „I did not ask you to fuck me, Thom.“ The name already seemes to feel less wrong in this moment. She runs her fingers through his hair. „I asked you to make love to me, Thom Rainier. Can you do this?“  
  
He swallows hard when he understands and realizes that there will be no other way to overcome.    
  
„I will try, my lady. Again and again and again. Until it will feel finally right.“  
  
„That’s all I ask you for.“


	5. Brontide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aryas worst childhood memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt from noseforatwo

The thunder rolls   
And the lightnin’ strikes   
Another love grows cold   
On a sleepless night   
As the storm blows on   
Out of control   
Deep in her heart   
The thunder rolls 

Dead Season - The thunder rolls

______________________________________

She kept pretending that it was dust that made this itchy feeling in her eyes. It was dusty and dark in the corner of the mansion’s hallway. Hidden in the shadows, leaning beside a door she stood. They forgot to shut it before they had started arguing.

About her.

About what had happened today.

About how she had shut down now completely all the low expectations her father already had of her.

About how her mother was embarassed and crying about her own flesh and blood that she was.

As if she had done it on purpose.

As if she had chosen to shoot flashs from her palms all of a sudden while a bunch of village kids had harassed her only for being the noblemans kid. A tree had burned down and two girls’ braids had caught fire from lightnings out of nowhere. Until today they always had known knew they could jump onto her without punishment. Because her father would not care nor would he have helped, even if she had told him. He had never helped her. At least the kids would leave her in peace now, she thought with a sad grin. 

She had never understood why the parents treated her different than her siblings but she had learned that it would not change whether she tried to be a good girl or just did what ever she liked. She was a disappointment no matter what. So she did what she liked better than doing boring stuff like dancing and sewing and wearing dresses when she could run and ride and pretend she was a famous knight fighting with a long stick instead of a sword.

This would be all over now. She knew what happened to people like her. Templers would come and take her to the Circle and lock her up. Forcing her to read books. And if she did not behave, they would make her tranquil. She had no idea what this was but she had heard people talking about it as if it was something they feared and admired at the same time.

She stood there in the dark and hoped to finally hear that they would consider to keep her somehow. Maybe hide her, so no one would ever know what she was… she was ready doing that if only… if only they said that they don’t want to see her leave. That they loved her.

The dust was so itchy in her eyes that there were even tears now… silly dust! In a defiant gesture she rubbed her eyes with her forearm.

She kept on eavesdropping… If only she listened careful enough, she thought, she would hear the words… she prayed for it… hoped it… would have given what she considered to be everything just for the sound of this words she so desperately waited for.

When she finally realised that she would not hear this words, that they simply did not care what happened to her in the future and that they could not have the Templars here fast enough, a wild and raw anger started to burn inside her. The rage of a child, but nevertheless, rage.

From a far a thunderstorm was rising.

She did not notice, because her anger numbed everything.

She was eleven. And her name was Arya Trevelyan.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> another hot anon letter  
> slightly regarding the beardless blackwall hype we had recently

anonym fragte:

::a letter slipped under Arya's private quarters door:: My Lady, I heard you were wondering what I looked like without my beard. Well, I must say, I had been under the impression you liked the feel of my course facial hair against your most delicate areas. I know I enjoy the slickness you leave behind on my chin when I've had my fill of you. Regardless, I am willing to experiment. Do let me know. ~B

 

____________________________

[pixiedurango](http://pixiedurango.tumblr.com/) beantwortet:

Blackwall, I just wonder where you always get your information from… I think I should have a word or two either with Sera or Dorian. But nevertheless as in any gossip you’ll find a grain of truth… 

So. As you ar eager to experiment, I suggest we meet at the bathhouse tonight at ten. I’ll see that we have it all for us and no one will disturb. 

Bring a shaving razor and then we’ll take care that the two body parts you mentioned will both be soft, smooth and hairless after we are done with each other. And I am sure your chin will be as slick as you prefer it to be.

However, your impression was right in every aspect. I love your beard and all the feels it gives me, but you know the saying: curiosity killed the cat and this cat just wants to take a look for once on whats behind the curtain. -A.


	7. Chapter 7

anonym fragte:

Outside the barn, Blackwall plants a boot on a log to wrest an ax out. His shirt drapes over an empty stall, and he's clad in nothing but pants and boots. Trousers conform to his body, wrapping around his legs and snugly flatter everything with every move. Arms flex as the ax lifts. Muscles go taut and relax beneath chest hair, shoulders and weather touched skin. Sweat trickles enticingly between chest muscles to his belt. Pausing to wipe his brow with the back of his arm, he asks, "My Lady?"

 

__________________________

[pixiedurango](http://pixiedurango.tumblr.com/) beantwortet:

She steps closer, casually stroking over his bare chest while she walks by.

“We need to discuss or relationsship.” low voice. Serious. Not looking into his eyes.

“Is something the matter?” suddenly there is a knot in his stomach.

“I will tell you. Upstairs. Don’t make an effort by taking on this shirt of yours…” she walks on and is already half her way into the stables.

“Of course, my lady.  _My pleasure_ …” he smiles. And is already on his way behind her.


	8. Happy Birthday Arya

anonym fragte:  
Filly, my love. Why do your counsellors burden you with all this paperwork on this special day? I'll be waiting for you, to cover your body with as many kisses as there will be candles on your cake tonight. And do everything you ask of me. This is your day. Bonne Fête my love -Blackwall

_______________

pixiedurango beantwortet:  
Love, finding your letter among the supplylists and strategy-maps was the best thing that happened to me today. I’m already plotting out what I’ll put on my wishlist for when we finally will be free from todays duties and can find a little distraction… 

I sneaked the key to the war-room out of Josies pocket and I’d say you come to pick me up around sundown… I wanted to show you some interesting things on the war-table… After we have finished our investigations down there, I suggest we’ll work our way through the keep and see if we find interesting places that might be worth our… attention. 

And I intend to explore every promising place really voluptously tonight. Multiple times…

Hope that meets your expectations?

-Arya


	9. Chapter 9

Anonymous asked:  
Blackwall's hands are broad, calloused from woodcutting, sword, and hobby carving. Thick fingers are sure when he unerringly finds the places to pleasure her. They can caress tenderly, hold her hand, or grip hard-all depending on her tastes and whim. Unless filled with a tool, they only caress his Lady, now. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he slides them down her arms. His breath is warm next to her ear, and coarse beard tickles. His body heat is so close she can feel it against her back.

_____________________________

„I missed you“ she whispers, leaning back, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. He is all around her. Leather and steel, musky scent of a man who works hard and the alluring mix of wood and hay. She feels his arms circling in front of her, drawing her closer to his body.  
„Not as much as I missed you, my lady.“ husky voice next to her ear. She can already feel him hard against her lower back. Promising feeling but she has other ideas. So she turns around within his embrace and slings her arms around his neck.  
He grabs her buttocks, supporting, when she jumps onto him, crossing her legs behind his back. Her midst suddenly pressing against him where his arousal is already pulsing, imprisioned within the leather of his breeches. Few steps and her back is pressed against the nearest stable wall and finally their lips meet for a hungry and fierce kiss.  
Moans within the kiss. She is grinding against him, he drags her closer.  
The position is perfect, she would die for being fucked exactly like that at once… but she knows if he lets her down now, in order to undress, the magic of the moment will be gone and they will start to think again. So she keeps on moving, rubbing herself against his own arousal, kissing, biting leaving marks on his shoulder and the crook of his neck.  
He seems to sense the same, not wanting to end the moment by asking technical questions on how to proceed. She has been away for weeks, he feels her ravenous for him. No matter what she may have done to please herself in her tent… the thought alone makes him groan and drag her even closer against his pulsing cock. Her nails dig into his skin under the linen shirt he is wearing, he does not care. He will wear her marks with pride.  
He only wants her to enjoy now. Letting her do what she desires. As long as she wants it, as long as she needs it. Until she tells him she ‘s up to something different. He just enjoys every moment witnessing, being part of her lust.  
Eventually she becomes calmer. Kisses are softer now, deeper, she’s still moving against him but slower now, more lascivious, less urgent.   
„Love…“ he finally breathes into her ear. Not sure how to put it into the right words, obviously blood in his brain lacking for proper thinking. „can you…? will you…? is it good like this?“  
At first, all he gets is a few more moans and some words impossible to understand. Finally there will be words. He knows and waits.   
She is still pinned between him and the stable wall, legs and arms slung around him, her heat pressed against his arousal that still is almost painful caught within his breeches.  
„Can we manage to escape from here without making us the talk of the keep, so you can fuck me properly in the privacy of my rooms?” she asks, while she lets herself sliding down, still not letting go of him. Her hair is tousled, her eyes are big and glistening and her skin is rosy and almost glowing from her still lingering lust. He can feel her heart beating fast. She smiles the smile he loves so much. „Maybe we’ll find another wall you can pin me against and we see where this ends without clothes.”  
He leans down to kiss her again. Soft and sweet. „I’d like that my lady. Let’s go then. Fast.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sex talk after a prompt for the otp nsfw meme for "doggy style"
> 
> actually no porn but very explicit sex talk with a surprising outcome for both of them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't read that if you have issues with anal penetration and buttsex in general and in particular!!!!

„What do you like best when we fuck?“ her question hits him out oft he blue.

They are sitting on the battlements. Side by side, her one hand lies casually on his thigh and he has wrapped one arm around her. Their feet are dangling down into the deep underneath, eyes out to he horizon. The sun is just about to set and the sky over Skyhold is colored in all shades of blue and pink. Both are chewing on some apples they raided from the kitchen earlier.

“What do you mean, Filly?” Blackwalls voice sounds slightly confused. Not knowing what she is up to again.

“Nothing.” She grins. “I was just thinking.”

“About what?” still not sure but already allured enough to ask further.

“We do a lot of stuff together.” Her hand starts striving up and down his thigh.

“And?”

“Like, what’s your favorite position for example. And why.”

“Trying to drag me into some sex talk, Filly?” now he is grinning,too. He knows how it gets her going when he talks filthy things to her.

“Why not?” her voice sounds so innocent, he actually can’t believe it.

Blackwall waits until some soldiers on their patrol have passed behind them and then replies while his hand almost accidental probes forward to come to rest on her breast. Barely noticeable one finger starts to caress her nipple under her tunic until it stands stiff under his strokes.

“Let’s see…” he begins, stretching his words and giving his voice some saucy undertone. “First of all, you are beautiful. I can have you wet within the shortest amount of time and you enjoy a good fuck as much as I do. You are not squeamish about getting it on rough and dirty. And you are really flexible. That’s definitely a plus!” he leans over to kiss her and he knows they are already in the midst of some sort of foreplay.

“Sounds good.” She purrs. “Something else?”

“You should see your self when you come. It’s one of the most amazing and most beautiful things I’ve ever seen when you do this glow thing. But I assume that’s not exactly what you were asking in particular?”

She giggles. “Well, it is sweet and sexy to hear all that…”

“But you wanted to hear about my favorite position…” he completes her sentence with a broad grin.

“For example.”

“I really love to have you from behind.” He admits with no more detours. “You kneeling in front of me and I am grabbing you on your hips so hard it leaves marks on your skin. I think this is one of my favorites. I love your ass, it’s a really nice one, you know?” His hand slides away from her breast down her spine and comes to lie on her buttock.

“Oh, thank you for this sweet compliment. And just to let you know, I like that position, too.” She answers. “Makes me feel you deeper inside, I love that.” Her hand still caresses his thigh now suddenly seemingly distant and she looks down for a moment as if she has to consider her next words.

“Have you ever…” she finally begins, hesitates again and stops to speak.

“What is it, love? Is something wrong with what I do?” he tries to help her but she smiles calming.

“No Blackwall, absolutely nothing is wrong with what you do.” She assures him, then she continues: „But as you mentioned now that this position is your favorite I was just thinking about some…  _additions_  we could easily have here.”

Blackwall raises his brows. “Additions? What do you mean?”

She turns her head and a slight touch of blush tints her cheeks. “Well, just imagine where your fingers and your cock could easily find their way to in this position…” The words finally rush from her, almost stumbling over them she is more blushing, not sure if she went to far with her ask.

He looks at her. Barely hiding his grin, not sure that he really heard what he just heard.

“Well, Filly…” he eventually begins. “Would be a lie to say I’m not surprised. This may probably be the first time in my life, a woman actually asked me to do that for her.”

“Is that odd to you? I mean that I ask for it?” she still seems a bit insecure on his reaction.

“I can’t see why this should be odd. I mean, as long as you want it because you enjoy it…” he drags her closer into his arm. “I don’t think many men would complain if they get offered a good assfuck by a beautiful lady.”

She’s all cheeky grinning. “Well, this was not what I have intended when I started this conversation but to be honest, I like the outcome. I always wanted to ask but I felt shy.”

His laughter is deep and rumbling. “Shy? You? Unlikely!”


	11. a public place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya and Blackwall find a hot way to pass time on a boring banquet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a nsfw - prompt from skylabennet/lustanddai for something in a public place.

The grand hall hummed from the cacophony of hundreds of voices, chinking glasses and the rattling of silverware.

Aryas expression could be best described as tensed as she sat at one of the large tables near the judgement throne in the rear of the huge room. All this noblefolk stressed her out. Earlier Josephine had to literally drag away some awkwardly meddly Trevelyans from one of the lesser bloodlines to prevent Arya from seriously hurting dumb people.   
  
She was just about to begin with her soup, when Blackwall, sitting opposite her, shoved his flat hand over the table. When he took the hand off she saw a carefully folded parchment and covered it immediately with her hand to pull it over the edge of the table so she could read it without others to see.

A smile appeared on her face. Her eyes locked with his and her lips formed the words ‚Thank you!’

His smile stayed hidden behind his beard but he nodded chivalrous and turned back to his soup.

> _[Filly, who ever made you wear this dress… I owe them! You look beyond beautiful and desirable! –B.]_

Arya shoved the note under her plate. She looked around to find one of the servants and called her with a little gesture. A few words and the girl dashed off and returned shortly after to hand her something over that she kept hidden under the table.

He had not noticed that she had taken the parchment again but when she shoved it back to him, he realized that she had added something under his note:

> _[Two words: NO SMALLS!]_

He looked at her. ‚You sure?’ his lips formed, seeking final consent to engage into a game. She nodded and he slipped down the parchment to his lap with a grin to scribble his next message:

> _[Later I will bend you over your desk and fuck you while you still wear that dress.]_

She read, smirked, managed to write unnoticed and waited for a unobstrusive moment to give the note back to him.

> _[And you still in that uniform. It suits you. You look quite chivalrous for a filthy man with only dirty things on his mind.]_

He almost choked from a suppressed laughter when he read her words. It took him a moment to think of a reply and finally went with:

> _[Pleasure, my lady. But this damn banquet will last forever! I bet your underskirt is already damp where you sit on it.]_

Her grin was answer enough. She deliberately chatted a little with the elderly woman to her left who luckily seemed to have weak eyes and was also busy talking to the person sitting on her other side most of the time so Aryas doing stayed unnoticed. Her deliberately delay made him eagerly wait for her next move.

> _[You know me too well! Do you want to know where my left hand is?]_

His eyes quickly scanned over the table. Her hand wasn’t where it should have been: Next to her plate. Her right was holding her spoon but the left was out of his sight. He wrote:

> _[You are killing me, Filly! For this I’ll make you go down on me and suck me my tainted soul out!]_

She had the nerve to slowly put down the spoon from her right to have a hand free to  write an answer. The left was still not to be seen. He could not be sure what she did with it but he had quite an impression.   
A moment later he got the parchment back:

> _[Can I expect your head between my thighs in return? Your tongue driving me crazy? Your lips sucking at me until I cry your name? What do you want first? Your cock in my mouth or me sitting on your face?]_

Her smile was only sweet and innocent on the surface. Beyond that he already saw pure lechery and he loved it. Wanted more of it. His hands almost trembled when he wrote down his next addition to their game.

> _[First you’ll do me! Mouth and hands. Fast and hard. No waste of time. Then I’ll spoil you until you beg me to make you come.]_

An adorable blush began to creep up her beautifully displayed cleavage and he was sure her cheeks were already burning. She kept her eyelids half shut not able to look at him.

> _[Dammit, how am I supposed to wait until we had dessert? We just had the soup! And I can’t have my hand any longer between my legs. I would start glowing in the middle of a banquet!]_

He had to press his lips together to avoid a groan slipping out. She was driving him crazy and he felt his arousal throbbing inside his breeches. He scribbled quickly:

> _[Hands off, Filly! Save your glow for me alone!]_

She smiled when she read it and with a daring look straight into his eyes her left hand slowly appeared back on the table. He nodded and began a conversation with the man sitting to his right. Some nobleman in a uniform that told of his higher ranks and merits. The distraction helped him a bit to calm down but her next message was already there:

> _[Hands are back on the table, Ser! But I still can feel it hot and wet between my legs. I cannot wait to have you inside me to fuck me senseless!]_

This was crazy, he knew it and he was sure she knew it, too. They had to represent the Inquisition and this banquet was, though dreadful and boring, important for their political and diplomatic future. But yet, this was so alluring and they had been discreet enough not to draw attention to them.  So he wrote

> _[Maker! I’m so hard my breeches will burst.]_

She idly licked her lips when she read and gave herself a few moments to think for a good answer while she was receiving the main course and had some more chitchat with her neighbor. Then she wrote again.

> _[I swear, I will make you come within a minute and you will love every second of it.]_

He was just about to put down another filthy reply, when suddenly a yellow ruffled arm appeared out of the blue over his shoulder and a surprisingly strong little hand yanked the already tattered parchment out off his fist. Josephine also wrested the little quill away from him and she was fast and swift and her black eyes burned with anger.

Blackwall felt sobered and embarrassed in an instant and was already about to say something but Josephine silenced him with a sharp gesture. She darted Arya over the table with a furious glance and the usually cocky Inquisitor now blushed in an embarrassed deep red.

“You will finish the banquet as announced. No further distractions. And I’ll see you in my office, afterwards.  _Both!_ ” Josephine hissed and with that, she disappeared in a cloud of blue and yellow rustling anger. Last thing to be heard was her muttering:  _“Maker how am I supposed to make that Inquisition work properly when they all act like children all the time. All of them!”_ No one except them had taken notice of this little incident, only Dorian was sniggering from the other end of the table winking at her when their eyes met.

Arya looked at Blackwall and he saw that she was already more giggles than worries and her mouth formed the words: ‚NOW we are fucked. BOTH!’


	12. Have you ever thought about writing a threesome between Cullen, Arya and Blackwall?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reply to an anon-ask: Have you ever thought about writing a threesome between Cullen, Arya and Blackwall?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is actually PWP  
> fluffy smut but nevertheless PWP

_Blackwalls lips on her mouth. The dark beard somewhat between ticklish and scratchy. His kiss is rough and demanding, his tongue almost forcing forward. Between her moaning lips while one of his hands at the back of her neck. Soon moving up until he gets a grip onto black hair and he softly pulls until her throat is showing long and exposed. And his mouth is trailing down from hers, licking her pulse, sucking the soft skin over her collarbone. Soft and careful at first, then finally her skin between his teeth._

_Arya savors the sensation between pleasure and pain. Her hand caressing his muscular chest, the dark hair on it soft and familiar under her touch. Scent of leather and steel mixed with wood and fire. Rough and tender at the same time his hands touching her body, she feels his throbbing erection against her thigh almost between her legs already and he groans when her hand trails down his belly to circle around his hard length._

_She gasps in a pleasant surprise when she feels another body behind her. Another pair of strong hands on her already sensitive skin, trailing down her spine. Another pair of lips. This one oh so soft, gentle at the crook of her neck, her shoulder. Blonde hair already falling in curls and she runs her free hand through it. Cullen pressing himself against her backside. Softly first then a little more demanding rubbing against her rim. Rock hard and wanting his cock against her skin but his touches stay soft as he runs down his fingers along her shoulders and arms parallel until he comes to rest on both her hips. Pulling her towards his arousal. She leans back her head until it rests on Cullens shoulder and she slings her arm around his neck. She smells oakmoss and elderberries and his lust and she moans against his warm skin._

_Blackwalls mouth moves to one of her full breasts and she whimpers when his lips close around her already perky standing nipple while she continues to move her hand on his arousal, stroking him  the way she knows he likes it best._

_One of Cullens hands has left her hip, reaching forward, careful, almost a bit shy, heading for her delta, resting on it for a while. The soft touch makes her shiver in anticipation and when he finally slips between her moist and swollen folds to find her most sensitive spot, there is Blackwalls mouth again on hers and she moans into his passionate kiss while his hand circles around hers and they hold his cock in a firm grip together while the other man continues to caress her towards the edge._

“Ary?”

A strangely familiar voice from a far on the distant edge of her consciousness.

“Inquisitor?” It’s Josephine.. what the… Arya slowly opens her eyes… disorientated… confused… aroused…

“What…” she looks around and realizes that she is in a carriage, half sitting half spread out on one of the benches, a woolen blanket wrapped around herself. Fully dressed and except with Josie completely alone. Slowly the memory comes back: On their way to some maker forsaken talks and her ambassador had made her use the carriage instead of horses because she did not like travelling on a horseback for days.

“Everything alright, Ary? You were dreaming. It Sounded like you have disturbing dreams. I wondered if I should better wake you up, there was a kind of strange glow rising up, looked quite dangerous…”

Josephine was all worried and kind and Arya blushed, 

“Oh, that’s sweet of you Josie, but don’t you worry. Everything is…  _perfect_.” And she grinned while she was stretching herself like a cat on that rocking bench over the arbor of that damn jolting carriage. Maybe she should take it more often…


	13. sins and sinners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> for every apple in my askbox Arya had to confess a sin.  
> I chose to do dialogues

**Truth or dare**

**Thom:** “Let’s see, Filly. It was truth, you said, didn’t you? So: What was the filthiest thing you did with Cullen, during the time you had not told me about this fling between you both?”

 **Arya:** _Really_?

 **Thom:**  “Why not, It’s over and you are here with me. And I am always in for your filthy ideas. They are inspiring”

 **Arya:** ” You have a dirty mind, old man!”

 **Thom:**  “So? Will you give something to fuel my dirty mind?”

 **Arya:**  “Once we accidental met in the kitchen by night. No one was there and one thing lead to another and we began making out. When we parted just before we would end up in either mine or his bed we agreed to do ourselves right the moment we are back in our rooms on our own.”*

 **Thom:**  “That’s hot. But I would prefer to be able to watch you while you do yourself, anyway.”

 **Arya:** “As I said. Dirty mind!”

 **Thom:**  “I would offer to lend a hand…” 

 **Arya:**  “That’s the least!”

*Referring to [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4262133)

 

* * *

 

 

**Truth or dare II**

**Thom:** “Again truth, Filly? Seems you are in the mood for confessions tonight.”

 **Arya:** “You keep on asking and your ‘dares’ are horrible. I refuse to run across the yards again, bare naked, swiping ale from the taverns backrooms.”

 **Thom:** “Well, I had a ball…”

 **Arya:** “Two of them, in your hands, when you saw me run!”

 **Thom:** “Now who has a dirty mind? Can I ask now?”

 **Arya:** “You are welcome!”

 **Thom:** “Have you ever imagined to have Cullen and me at the same time?”

 **Arya:** “Is that a serious question? Sure I have.”

 **Thom:** “You never asked for it.”

 **Arya:** “Would you ever have agreed to it?”

 **Thom:** “You can never know.”

 **Arya:** “We can ask him right now. I’m sure he would not say no to a reunion.”

 **Thom:** “I’m afraid I must decline…

 **Arya:** "Knew it!”

* * *

 

**Love**

**Cullen:**  “While you were in the circle. Have you ever slept with a Templar?”

 **Arya:**  “Yes?!?!”

 **Cullen:**  “Have you loved him?”

 **Arya:** “I was sixteen.”

 **Cullen:**  “Not the answer to my question. Have you loved him? After all you both risked much to be together.”

 **Arya:**  “If you asked my sixteen year old self, she would have screamed ‘YES!!!’”

 **Cullen:**  And if I ask your now-self?

 **Arya:**  “I was curious and in for every adventure that involved rulebreaking in general and sexy things in particular.”

 **Cullen:** “And he?”

 **Arya:** “He was sweet.”

 **Cullen:**  *sighs* “I was afraid you’d say that. What happened?”

 **Arya:**  “Shortly we began to meet he got assignment to another circle.”

 **Cullen:**  “Seems you two had a guardian angel.”

 **Arya:**  “By now, I think the same. I wonder what became of him.”

 **Cullen:**  “Hope he is well.”

 **Arya:**  “Me too.”

 

* * *

 

**Regret**

**Varric:**  Have you ever done things, you truely regret, Thunderbolt?

 **Arya:** What’s that? Research for another book?

 **Varric:**  Maybe…

 **Arya:**  Well I don’t think I’m a worse person than anyone but I did a few things in order to survive I’m not proud of.

 **Varric:**  Such as?

 **Arya:**  Calling yourself a dancer does not mean it stops when the dancing is done when you have a hole in your stomach…

 **Varric:**  I think only few people would call you out a sinner for something like that…

 **Arya:**  But a lot more would, when they find out that some of the people who offered the coin for some “extra”-dancing did not survive it when they accidentally discovered that they bought themselves a mage into bed.

 **Varric:** Well, that’s a different story…

* * *

 

**Confession**

**Cassandra:**  “You were pretty angry when Rainier left you without explanation in that hayloft, my friend.”

 **Arya: “** Who wouldn’t?”

 **Cassandra:**  *chuckles* “I would have killed him.”

 **Arya:**  “I considerd it. And not just literally.”

 **Cassandra:**  “…”

 


	14. against the wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:  
> can you write blackwall smut against a wall please i need it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you asked nonny and you shall receive :D  
> Rough and unedited but hot and sweet… hope it meets your needs ;)

* * *

 

„What do you say? Lets go home soon, my lady?” Blackwalls voice was low and already a bit husky when he whispered in Aryas ear. The evening at the Herald’s Rest had been already longer than estimated and beside having an ale and some talk with the friends there had been an almost unholy amount of teasing and secret touches. She was good at this things. Saying words that seemed to be unobtrusive but held some sweet and hot promise for him or references on earlier encounters. It worked every time. Or her hands casually wandering down his spine or along the sides of his thighs with the lightest of touch when no one noticed.

And she looked different tonight. Not often she did chose to wear skirts but tonight she had. He loved how the silken garment fell over her round hips and swung around her legs. She was always beautiful but this kind of dress was really appealing to him, as he had to admit.

She had danced earlier. He loved to see her dancing. It was like they were already in the middle of foreplay when she moved her hips and her arse . Her eyes on him, looking into his as if she was only dancing for him. Like a promise. A promise of what would come later.

Blackwall wanted her.

Now.

And when she made no effort to say her good nights after he had asked the first time, he decided to catch her attention with one little more direct approach.

He brought his mouth to her ear again while one hand grabbed one of her buttocks. Tight grip.

„Outside, Filly! Now! I’ll wait in that alcove behind the tavern and if you come there with your smalls still on don’t complain later if I tear them apart.”

She didn’t say anything but a smile curled one corner of her mouth and she only nodded a tiny nod.

No one got suspicious.

He had gotten up and excused himself right after he had opened the game for the night and when she got up a little later and wished everyone a good night, no one even payed attention that Blackwall had not yet returned. They were all busy in talking, drinking, flirting and so Arya almost ran out and while she hurried to get where she was ordered to go she managed to jump out of her smalls while walking. She had no idea where to put it so she pushed it under her belt and had already forgotten about it when she turned around the dark corner where she assumed to find her man waiting for her.

And there he was. It was dark but she could tell from his scent, his breath, even from his grip on her waist that it was him.

„There you are.” he groaned somewhere beside her ear. „Made me waiting all night.” Rough hands already on their way under her skirts, tugging them up. He was pushing her against the wall. Demanding but careful enough not to hurt her. Her nimble hands already on his waistband opening the laces of his breeches and he sighed in relief when his hard cock sprang out and twitched against his abs. She pulled the breeches downwards. One of her hands was already circling around him beginning to pleasure him with determined strokes just as he liked them best. He kept on talking while she was moving her hand on him and he was reaching between her legs where he found her already wet and ready and she drew in her breath when his fingers found her sensitive nub and began to caress her: „Heating me up with your looks and your hands. Dancing for me and all your sweet talk, Filly. And then you suddenly won’t leave? You are a cruel girl. What shall I do with you now?” she was panting and her core moved against his hand.

„Fuck me. Now. I’ll apologize later in bed. You won’t regret it.” Her fingers pressed against the sensual point on the downside of his corona and he gasped.

„How do you want it? From behind?” he asked and he let two of his fingers slide inside her and she had to muffle her voice by biting his shoulder.

„Lift… me… up!” she managed to breathe and before she even could realize his hand was off from her heat and he grabbed her buttocks and lifted her up. She slung her legs around his waist and while he leaned her against the rough stone wall he steadied himself into a safe stand. She had to help him a bit directing his cock but when she brought him into the right angle towards her entrance he slid inside her with a swift move and both suppressed their moan upon the sweet sensation having the other that close.

„Good?” he asked and she approved with a hoarse groan. She slung her arms around his neck and began to rock against his midst. His hands still holding her ass he pulled her towards him and he buried his face in the crook of her neck still mumbling words telling her how beautiful and hot she was to help her to let go.

Her back would be a mess tomorrow but after a moment of recognition the thought was gone and forgotten and there was only his cock inside her making her feel hot and wanted. Skin slapped on skin and she felt his sac bouncing against her while he fucked her as hard and satisfying as it was possible while standing against a house wall with the breeches down to the knees.

She loosened one hand from his neck and tried to bring it between them to caress herself to help him make her come. They could not stay here forever and so a little extra would make it easier to climax.

„You want to come already?” he breathed when he recognized where here hand was and she responded with an equal husky voice thick from lust and lechery: „Lets get this done here, so we can move to lay down. I long to suck your dick and have your face between my legs.”

His laugh was full of hunger and anticipation. He did a little step back so her hand had a better angle to find her clit and he was thankful that the twilight was just enough to watch how she was beginning to caress herself now while he was still inside her and his eyes wandered from her caressing hand up to her face full of lust and back and he resumed to thrust inside her to find a rhythm to get them both to the edge soon. When her breath got faster and her moans changed into little growls he knew the glowing would start soon and as always he watched it in awe and love when she began to orgasm and the well known blueish aura around her skin showed. A few last hard thrusts and he let go himself. Feeling her inside tightening around him again and again in waves of lust and it prolonged his own climax until both of them became calmer again and he softly held her closer while her aura slowly faded. Changing his arms from ass to a tight hold around her waist, leaning her close against the wall to give her support so she could recover without taking her feet back to the ground. He was still inside her and he wanted to save the feeling as long as he could. When he finally slid out she made a soft unwilling noise and he chuckled because it sounded so sweet to him.

„You all right, love?” he asked eventually and she nodded against the crook of his neck where her head was resting. Her legs were still slung around his waist and her arms laid around his neck.

„May I set you back down to the ground, little spider monkey?” he finally asked and she giggled.

„You may.” and while she let her legs off of him to stay on her own two feet again, she raised her head and their lips met for a soft and sweet kiss full of love and promise what the rest of the night would bring.


	15. Orlesian Opera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> noseforahtwo asked:  
> 6\. Clothed getting off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here for you and every one who wants it, too - have some rubbing action in an Orlesian opera. Obviously post revelations because “Thom”…

* * *

 

„Can you please remind me again why exactly we are here?” Arya leaned over to Thom who was sitting next to her in a huge plushy fauteuil big enough for two persons and whispered into his ear. He chuckled inaudible and whispered back:

„Blame Josephine. She took us all here because in her opinion the Orlesian Opera is a place where important decisions are made and so we came here to the Grand Premiére of the latest rising star of this wonderful art form to take us into the center of politics.”

„I hate it here!”

„Me too, but at least the seats are comfortable. Have you ever seen an opera house where they have seats for two people?” he slid an arm around her waist, making a face when down on the stage a masked woman with a huge bust began to sing in Orlesian.

„I actually never have seen an opera house from the inside. But I doubt there are those seats everywhere here. This loges seem to be for special guests…”

From the seats in front of them came an unnerved ‘shush’ and Vivienne and Josephine turned their heads and both shook their heads in the same disapproving gesture.

Arya and Thom looked at each other smirked and shrugged at the same time.

They tried to listen to the opera but both of them had no sense for the heavy music and the pitched voices and also the pompous story of jealousy and treachery could not entangle them. So Arya was not surprised when finally his hand wandered from her waist down to her ass, squeezing her buttock and pulling her closer.

Some quick looks around to check if they could stay unnoticed and then her hand sneaked over to his crotch. Already feeling him half hard inside the breeches of the formal uniform he had put on today. He tried to reach with his hand under the skirt of her long dress but she shook her head while she was already stroking her hand over the soft fabric, feeling him slowly reacting to her ministrations. One last time she leaned over to him and whispered:

„You can’t do me here. I would scare the crap out of the Orlesian noble folks with blue light. Later, love. Now let me take care of you.”

He nodded. Of course, she was right. Maker, good that at least one of them was still thinking. He couldn’t anymore to be honest, because her hand was working on him and even if there was all this fabric between his cock and her hand, it was already impossible to concentrate. He was rock hard now and his cock throbbed inside his pants. Thom closed his eyes, leaned back his head against the plushy back of the fauteuil and stretched his legs to give his crotch a bit of space inside the already too tight breeches.

One hand still on her ass, just holding a firm grip on her and squeezing occasionally just to have something from her in his hands while she still was moving her palm over the bulge. The breeches were not made from silk or other light material but even through the sturdy fabric she felt his arousal pulsing and she moved faster and tried to give him a deeper feeling by getting a half grip around him as far as she could get her hand around. There was not much more possible than rubbing him up and down on top of his clothes but the moment and the possible danger of being caught made it so arousing that it took him not long until he slowly felt his climax build up. A last moment of prudence but then this moment was gone and he had not taken her hand away to calm down. He just let her go on working her sweet little fingers on him while he just let the feelings rush in. And as if she felt that she had him on the edge, she gave a little more pressure and then there was no turning back and his orgasm washed over him in a hot wave and his hips rocked a few times while he bit his lower lip to stay silent. His breath rushed, his chest raised and sunk fast from heavy breathing, desperately trying to avoid catching attention by making a noise. Fortunately the opera down there on the stage was a very loud one and so he could use this background noise as his disguise until his breath slowly became calmer again.

She slowly took her hand off from him and he could have bet that she was grinning in the dark.


	16. a gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jupiterandorpheus asked:
> 
> A gift- Arya and Blackwall or Cullen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to go for some sweet Cullen Fluff (set earlier in the game)

 

* * *

It was already dark when a little knock on the left door to his office made Cullen almost jump. He called: “Come in!” but nothing happened. He repeated, louder this time, but still nothing. So finally the Commander got up with a sigh and while he walked to the door he took opportunity to stretch his tensed muscles.  
There was no one when he opened the door but a little flickering light from beneath caught his attention just before he was about to shut the door again, still wondering if someone (or even worse: his mind) was playing tricks on him.

But on the door sill he found a little cake with some dark frosting and a burning candle sticking in its middle. Beside the pastry there was a parcel and Cullen got down to his knees immediately with a broad smile of surprise. He lifted both from the ground and stepped outside on the battlements. „Hello?“ he asked and looked into every possible direction. But it was too dark to see anyone. „Come out who ever you are. Show yourself!“

Nothing.  
Finally Cullen shrugged and went back into his office.  
He placed both things on his desk and examined them carefully.   
The cake was obviously some heavy choclate batter filled with apricot jam covered with dark chocolate and just the scent of it was mouthwatering.

Cullen still smiled.  
At least on person must have noticed that his nameday had been today. He had avoided any official duties and had not been leaving his desk in the tower but one person had made the effort to surprise him. He wondered, who.   
Josie probably. She was a person who would send cakes with candles. But in such secrecy? Why should she?  
Cass? Unlikely.   
And the one person he would have wished so desperately to be here with him was most likely sleeping in a tent somewhere in the arms of…   
Cullen frowned and pushed away that unpleasant thought and turned back to his gifts.   
Maybe he would find answers in the little parcel, wrapped in dark red silkpaper.   
It was sleek in his hand, maybe a leather pouch of some kind and he felt tiny hard pieces wobbling inside.  
He ripped off the paper and he had been right. It was a puch of soft brown buckskin with a long leather whang. When he opened it, it unfold into an even circle and he saw that the skin was painted inside with the patterns of a chessboard and the tiny pieces were elaborate crafted chess pieces from silverite and serpentstone. A travelers’ chess set.  
Cullen loved it.

He took the delicate figurines and was delighted how detailed and beautiful they were.   
A folded parchment was lying in the middle of the little pile of figurines and suddenly Cullens heart was beating faster. He took the letter and took a deep breath before he dared to unfold and read:

Dear Cullen,  
I hope you are doing fine. I’m sorry that I cannot be there on your nameday. So here you have my gift and my best wishes for you and for YOUR day.

Because I know you’ll lock yourself away so no one gets the chance to say even hello, I had Cole take the cake from the kitchen and leave everything at your door so no one will bother you today if that is what you wish.

But please promise me, Cullen, tomorrow take a few hours and meet your comrades at the tavern!   
You mean a lot to us. You mean a lot to me.  
So love and hugs and kisses from the Emerald Grave. Take care.

-Arya

PS: I take the Silverite and dang you if I’ll ever catch you again trying to let me win, I swear, I’ll burn you sweet ass with a lightning blast! I can beat you with chess any time without your help [a little face with a stick out tongue is drawn at the end of the letter]


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> elvenmaleficar asked:
> 
> Think of Blackwall cuddling with you and making sure you're comfy.

* * *

„Put on those knitted things, Cole brought earlier.“ Blackwall paces around in Aryas chambers and looks utterly stressed.   
He finds her kettle, finds water and sets it to boil.

„I can’t reach my feet. My head explodes when I try to bend over…“ she tries some kind of little girls voice but it fails on her hoarsness.

„Hold a moment longer, Filly. I’ll bring the tea you demanded to have earlier. Then I’ll take care for your feet.“ He tries hard to stay patient though he would rather go and fight a dragon on his own than playing nurse for this coughing and sneezing little mess.

But when another coughing attack shakes her, suddenly he is all worried and almost runs over and sits beside her, awkwardly patting her tousled black hair. „I’ll put some honey into the tea, Filly. And make sure you drink it while still hot. You left the last cup until it was only piss warm. This won’t help. And cover yourself, lass! Blanket up to chin, this is an order!“ he growls but with a smile hidden by his beard.

„Aye…“ she mumbles and crawls deeper under her woolen blanket.

Blackwall sighs deeply and gets up again to put the tea leaves into the now boiling water.  
But the peace only lasts for a few moments and a little voice from the bed weeps:  
„I’m so bored.“

„Shall I bring you some of the books Cassandra had send?“ he asks while he fills a jug with the herbal tea he got from Vivienne for her and adds a spoonful of golden honey.

„I can’t concentrate on reading.“

„I will not read ‚Swords and Shields’ to you while you are sick.“ He cuts her off and her attempt of laughing ends in another cascade of coughs.

„Maybe ‚Theories of time magic’ then?“ she asks pleadingly.

„Maybe I should send for Dorian for playing mother hen to you better…“ he rumbles. „He would spoil you with frilly cakes and gossip and at least he would know what he was reading…“

„Noooo, I don’t want Dorian.“ She screeches. „I want my gruffy, rumbling, big, warm and cozy man.“

„Lass, you are a pain in the ass when you are sick. But I cannot help but love you.“ Blackwall steps to the bed, places her tea and a book (which turns out to be ‚Swords and Shields’) on the little table beside it and waits until she lifts her blanket to let him slip underneath. „Come here, Filly, I’ll keep you warm and entertained until you feel better.“

Blackwall does not care that her face is swollen, full of pimples, a bright red running nose and tired eyes, he just take her in his arms and holds her, placing kisses on her hair. „And I will take care of your cold feet, too.“ He promises.


End file.
